


Shoulder to Cry On

by SandHopper



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Confessions, Dysphoria, F/M, No Spoilers, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandHopper/pseuds/SandHopper
Summary: Trust nobody in a game of life or death. You never know when it'll come back to bite you.That's a chance he's willing to take if it means he finally has someone to talk to.Ultimate Lucky Student? Yeah right.





	Shoulder to Cry On

**Author's Note:**

> While I myself am a trans guy, I know that not everyone in a similar situation will be able to relate to this story. It is mainly written for myself, as a vent (I have no one to talk to about this).

Kyoko Kirigiri. A goddess in every way, shape, and form. Her long, lilac hair was almost as soft as her pale skin. The gloves she always wore accented the mysterious aura always surrounding her. Dulcet, soothing voice. Purple eyes, though soft and delicate, could see through anyone in an instant. Perfection in human form.

Makoto Naegi. Pathetic piece of shit.

Lying to everyone? Yes. Lying to himself? Yes. If he could even call 'himself' that.

Something made a noise. He forced himself out of the comfortable bed and out into the cold world, knowing it was well past noon by this point. His dull eyes shifted toward his room's door. Someone was knocking, a person was intentionally making this noise. While he was always glad to have a distraction, something felt just slightly off.

"I'm coming!" he yelled, cringing at the sound of his own voice. Too high. Too feminine. He sighed in relief at the memory of Monokuma revealing the doors to be soundproof.

As Makoto took a step, he immediately felt his body crash into the hard floor. He groaned and reached his already bandaged hand up to where his ribs were, and recoiled it upon the unsettling touch of something under his oversized t-shirt. He was too numb to realize when he woke up, but after that incident...

Makoto had accidentally slept in his binder again.

The first time he had done it? No big deal. It was months ago, in a worn-out used binder he had bought online. Sure, waking up in it wasn't pleasant, but he had his sister with him to help him through it.

This time, however, it was different. His parents had bought him a brand new binder when they found out he would be attending Hope's Peak Academy. It was tight as hell, yeah, but it made his chest flat. Like a man's.

It was too tight. Makoto was suffocating himself. His heart pounded desperately against his ribcage, his lungs screaming for air. He assumed he'd be out of tears by now, but they came running down his face as he tried to rip the binder off and get it away from his body.

Every day since he had arrived, Makoto had cried throughout each night, none of it having anything to do with the killing game. He didn't have time to deal with any of it when he couldn't even deal with himself. Makoto truly despised Makoto.

He collapsed in a sobbing heap on the edge of his bed, no energy left to put his shirt back on. What was the point, anyway? It didn't cover anything. His too-big chest was just barely concealed by the binder, which was now laying by the door to his room.

The door.

He raised his head, messy hair and tear stained face, to meet the door. The knocking had ceased; he wasn't sure of when it was, but whoever had business with him was gone. He could only hope that he hadn't missed a body discovery announcement by sleeping in late.

He took a while to calm down. He went into his bathroom, taking care to avoid the broken glass. Not too long after they arrived, he had smashed his mirror into a million tiny pieces. What now hung in front of his sink was an empty frame. He stared into it nonetheless, preparing a washcloth. He knew that he should take a shower, but he didn't have the energy required to do so. He glanced down at his body and wasn't surprised at what he saw. Still, he regretted it.

Bruises covered his chest, and his back suffered constant damage from running around so much all day. Luckily, his bottom half was still covered, so he didn't have to see the scars. All of the scars that he used a knife to draw pink patterns on his skin. A shiver went up his spine, despite the warm air of his dormitory.

Makoto decided that it would probably be best to get some sleep. Sure, it wouldn't cure him, but it could help.

He dreamed that afternoon. He didn't really remember all of it, but it made him happy just to not be plagued with nightmares for once. In his dreams, there was a sense of floating. It was almost like he was on top of calm and steady waters, on top of the world. That was certainly what it felt like. He had no scars whatsoever. He was wearing his jacket, but could feel that there was nothing underneath it. Just him.

Makoto's mouth twitched upwards to somewhat resemble a smile. He was holding onto something. He found it extremely difficult to open his eyes as he lay there, but he couldn't say that it was a bad feeling. It felt like...another human. If this was real life, Makoto would've been freaking out by this point. Having someone that close to his chest never failed to send him into a panic. But it felt so comforting. He never wanted to let go.

Again, he tried to open his eyes. Before he saw his dormitory bedroom, he saw purple hair.

As sad as Makoto was that the sweet dream ended, he couldn't deny that he was in much better spirits than before. Usually, he heard Monokuma's announcements in the morning and before nighttime, so he quickly glanced at his wall's clock. 9:04 PM, it read. Later than he thought, but he needed to move around. He couldn't stand sitting there alone any longer.

He walked over to his door to retrieve the binder that he threw earlier. Next to it, he noticed a small sheet of paper that had been slipped underneath his door. He unfolded it and read:

_'Makoto. I know that something is wrong. Although I realize I cannot force you into anything you do not wish to do, I hope that you'll stop by my room when you receive this note._

_Kyoko Kirigiri_

_P.S. Eat something if you haven't today.'_

Makoto wasn't going to deny having it pretty bad for Kirigiri, but that was something he'd keep a secret. For her sake. The thought of bringing her down with him made Makoto shiver as he stood there with minimal clothing.

Speaking of which, he decided to dress himself to head out. He put all his normal clothes on and took a deep breath before stepping out into the hallway.

* _I can always eat later,_  he thought. He had a rare moment of self confidence when he walked with his shoulders back and chin up to Kirigiri's door. One solid knock later, he felt like a deflated balloon. He quickly glanced down at his chest and his face turned scarlet.

They're too big.

He was sure that he would've burst into tears yet again if Kirigiri had not opened the door so suddenly. He quickly snapped his head back up in shock. If she noticed, which she did, she didn't mention it.

"Oh, Makoto. I've been waiting for you." The way she spoke made him want to embrace her and spill everything, but there was a time and place for everything. When they got out alive, which he _knew_  they would, then he would tell her. Not here. Not now.

"Waiting? I hope you weren't held up long, heh."

"No, not long. Only..." she paused to check the time, "seven and a half hours, give or take a few." Makoto's face dropped. Was he really that much of a burden? He could barely resist the urge to bury his head in his hands and fall to ge floor. Kirigiri seemed to pick up on this. "Ah, don't worry. I had plenty to keep myself busy in my own room for the time."

He could only nod in response. His entire purpose for coming here? What was it again?

"Come in, Makoto. I insist." Oh, yeah.

"Really, it's fine Kirigiri. I don't-"

"Kyoko."

"Pl- huh?" His words were interrupted by some of Kirigiri's own.

"No need to be so formal," she responded. "Kyoko is fine."

"Oh, uh...right. Anyway, I don't plan on staying long. I just wanted to let you know that I'm fine, I've just been a little tired lately is all. You get it, investigating murders and everything? So, I'll just be heading back to-"

"Makoto." Kyoko's short and to-the-point responses always caught him off guard, no matter how used to them he was.

"...y-yeah?"

"Please. Let me help you." She averted her gaze to avoid looking Makoto directly in the eyes. He detected a hint of...worry? No, that wasn't like Kyoko Kirigiri at all.

He raised his head. "Okay." She opened the door wider to let him in, shutting it behind him and following him to her bed. She motioned for him to sit down, and then did the same herself. They were close, but not _too_ close. He could reach out to touch her if he wanted to.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

They sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. Makoto kept silently repeating how this wasn't the right way to let her know. Kyoko didn't comment on his strange behavior until he accidentally clutched the top sheets of her bed, balling them up in his fists.

A normal person would've been pissed off by the way he was acting. Makoto was almost positive that sweat was pouring down his back, despite being in the binder for less than ten minutes.

It shouldn't hurt yet. But it does. Comfortable silence for Kyoko, probably, but unbearable for Makoto.

Kyoko is about to speak when he suddenly gasps. He feels the tears rushing back, threatening to fall. He couldn't bring himself to look up, to look at his friend who wanted to do her best to comfort him.

"Makoto...am I allowed to take a guess?"

He was unable to verbally answer. He barely nodded.

"First, would you feel more comfortable laying down?" He thought back to that morning, getting up in his binder and he firmly shook his head.

"I'll continue then. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you...are not comfortable in your body, right?"

Makoto nods again.

"I see. Makoto, you should know this...you're still Makoto. I had a sneaking suspicion this whole time, but didn't want to make any assumptions without evidence. None of this changes how much we all love and respect you, Makoto. I know everyone will agree, because you're _you,_ which is amazing. And can- can I touch you? Makoto?"

Tears were spilling out of his eyes and dripping down his face, falling to his lap and the sheets and the floor. His body was shaking as if he were freezing to death, only accompanied by the sound of his sobbing. Makoto had wanted to die in the past, to release his pain and save everyone else while he was at it.

_No! That's not true!_  he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut. His brain made him think certain things with obvious faults. Of course, he had known good liars in the past, but it was clear that his friends cared about him. Even Kyoko, who was sitting by his side, couldn't hide the fact that she worried about his well-being. Still, he had never wanted to die this much in his life.

He felt her gloved hand wrap soothingly around his, and he leaned his head on her shoulder. She let him cry until he was completely out of tears. Ten minutes? Two hours? He didn't know. He didn't bother to check the time. But he was exhausted when he was done.

He lifted his head back up and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and let go of Kyoko's hand.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked.

Makoto cleared his throat before beginning. "Y-yeah. Thanks, Kyoko."

"I'm really sorry, Makoto. I wish there was something more I could do to help you."

"No! You helped! Really! I'm really grateful, Kyoko. Thank you."

A small smile landed on her face. "Even when you're feeling like this, you feel the need to take care of your friends. Your optimism is something I admire about you, Makoto."

He nodded a little bit. Getting complimented from the most perfect person he had ever met? Truly incredible. His face would probably turn red if it already wasn't. "Well, I suppose we should be getting ready to go to sleep, then."

"You're right. I'll see you tomorrow."

As she got up from the bed, Makoto noticeably fidgeted where he was sitting. His entire body was aching, and he was tired from barely moving all day, but he couldn't stand the thought of being alone any longer.

"Do you want to stay?" She read his mind.

"What should I do about...you know?" he asked.

"Well, you do have to take it off. Don't worry, I promise not to look at you."

Again, he nodded in gratitude. He didn't bother entering the bathroom to change, as he trusted Kyoko's word. She let him get into the bed first, allowing him time to get comfortable before she got changed herself, turning off the light before getting under the covers herself.

After tossing and turning for maybe half an hour, he faced her, hoping she was still awake.

"Kyoko?"

"Hmm?"

"I...I love you."

"I know."

He closed his eyes.

Kyoko Kirigiri, his goddess.

Makoto Naegi, maybe a little more comfortable with the world.

"...I love you too."


End file.
